As he walked, he marveled anew that she was back in town. After he’d left the bar, he’d gone on a walk, not wanting to go home and face Clara and her questions about why he was home so early. He hadn’t had a conscious plan, but his feet had carried him to the elementary school. He’d met Evie on the playground there the first summer she’d come to stay with Lucille. His mom had still been alive then, Clara not yet born. Life as he knew it had yet to be upended. And while Mom had chatted with Lucille, Sawyer and Evie had circled each other. She’d been shy. So he, having recently discovered puns from a joke book he got out of the library, swung himself up on the monkey bars and called, “Wanna hang out?” It had worked. She’d smiled and joined him, and they made up a game called “How long can you hang?” which was exactly what it sounded like. They’d laughed and made faces as they’d hung facing each other, each trying to get the other one to laugh and let go.

And then they’d grown up together. Become friends. Best friends. And then more.

The thing that hurt the most was that when he’d sent Evie away, not only had he lost his girlfriend, he’d lost his best friend.

He’d been overcome for a minute there, back at the flower shop. He’d been kneeling in front of her, and once he’d achieved his aim of unlocking the door, he’d just been…stunned. It wasn’t lost on him that both times he’d seen Evie since she’d been back, she’d been towering over him. Larger than life. Illuminated. By the sudden, unexpected appearance of the sun when she was on the roof of the Mermaid, then by the light in the refrigerator in an otherwise dimly lit store.

And she was so angry at him.

Which shouldn’t be a surprise. It was the natural consequence of what he had done.

He had wanted to stay on his knees. To take her hands and explain that everything he’d done had been for her own good. No explaining, he’d promised himself back then. He couldn’t explain himself then, or she wouldn’t have left. She would have turned down her scholarship and turned her back on her dreams.

But what about now?

Maybe he could explain. He had tried to, earlier, outside the bar, but she wouldn’t listen. Still, he held out hope that maybe he could find a way to apologize while she was here.

And, in so doing, find out if it had all been worth it. Had she gone to college, studied abroad, made something of herself? She looked like she had.